


Bad Faith

by froggy21997



Series: Bad Faith [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Next-Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggy21997/pseuds/froggy21997
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy starts his schooling at Hogwarts, along with the child of Harry Potter: Albus Severus Potter.





	1. This Child [Part 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy starts his schooling at Hogwarts, along with the child of Harry Potter: Albus Severus Potter.

“Rose Weasley!”

I heard the name and grimaced. _Of course there’s a Weasley in my year… As if it wasn’t enough to already have_ this _kid to live with!_ I secretly peered at the boy sitting directly next to me. Albus Potter, son of the ‘great’ Harry Potter. The dark-haired boy must have known that I was a Malfoy, given he was Sorted into Slytherin only two people after I was. Before he sat down, he greeted me with a soft handshake and didn’t speak more than a quiet ‘Hello’. He couldn’t possibly have not known that our fathers didn’t get along.

But here he was, next to me. He looked toward the cluster of students who had yet to be Sorted. “That’s my cousin, Rosie,” he whispered to me. “She’s smart, like my Aunt Hermione.”

 _Great, so she’s another child of the Golden Trio._ I sat straighter in my seat at the Slytherin table to get a better look at the Weasley. If I was going to do as Grandfather had said, to avoid the spawn of Weasleys, I would need to know what she looked like. And _definitely_ stay away from this Potter kid, too.

The girl trembled as she made her way up to be Sorted. As Grandfather had said, the Weasley’s hair was red, but not the red I’d imagined: this girl’s hair was a darker red, and it curled halfway down her back. When she turned to sit on the stool, I noticed a spatter of freckles across her cheeks. She was rather pretty for someone with such an unfortunate lineage. Her eyes nervously searched the room, and for one horrifying split second our eyes met before the Sorting Hat fell over her face.

My heart thumped for one painful beat. _Crap, she caught me._ I took a deep breath to regain my composure, silently admonishing myself. _She was probably looking for her cousin. Of course she’d look this way._

Moments later, the Hat announced her result: “GRYFFINDOR!”

I rolled my eyes. _Of course._

Rose Weasley sighed with a small smile as the Hat was lifted from her head, and then she walked over to the cheering Gryffindor table.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is she… upset?”

Albus Potter answered, “Rosie wanted Ravenclaw.”

“Oh.”

We didn’t speak again for the duration of the Sorting and the Headmistress’s opening speech, and when the food finally appeared in front of us, we were too hungry to do much other than eat. It wasn’t until we were dismissed to our dormitories that he finally said, “I heard the Slytherin dorms are in the dungeon. Do you think it’ll be cold down there?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been told it’s got a huge fireplace, so maybe that will cancel it out.”

He nodded. “I hope so.”

We followed the Slytherin Prefects to a long set of stairs leading downward. At the bottom, we were led down to the end of a hallway, where one Prefect talked at a bare wall— “ _Anguis_ ”— and the wall opened to let us in.

Once inside what the Prefects called the Common Room, we first-years were herded to one side to let other students enter. While we waited for the noise of footsteps to subside, we got a chance to look around the square-shaped room. My jaw dropped at the enormity of the space, so elegantly furnished with black leather couches, each accompanied by a coffee table. The room was lit by dozens of green orbs that floated above our heads. There were plenty of tables for studying or other activities. Windows lined the walls to the left and right, flanking each of two fireplaces. At the center of the ceiling above us were more windows, sloping to a point like a square pyramid. And when I looked outside into the darkness, I saw— _fish?!_ Another first-year asked, “Are we underwater?!”

A Prefect answered, “Yes, at the bottom of the Black Lake, actually. Don’t worry; these windows have held up for over a thousand years, with _plenty_ of magic that’s renewed every few years.”

“We see lots of fish and the like,” another Prefect added. “It’s very calming. And sometimes we even see a mermaid or two hunting around here.”

A third Prefect nodded and added, “And keep an eye out for our very own giant squid!”

A hushed ‘wow’ spread among us first-years, making some of the other students chuckle.

Next, we were divided between boys and girls. By my count, there were eight girls and five boys. _Out of over eighty first-years, only thirteen Slytherins…_ A boy Prefect led my group through one of two doors on the opposite side of the room from the entrance. “This is the boys’ dorms,” he explained. “The other door leads to the girls’ dorms.” Behind the door was a long hallway, which was lined with doors on one side, each labeled for a year of schooling. The third door was labeled ‘ _1st-Year Boys_ ’.  “This will be your shared room for the next seven years. Your stuff should already have been brought inside. Would someone open the door, please?”

A dark-skinned boy volunteered and turned the silver-plated doorknob and we entered. Inside were exactly five beds lined up on the right, with five wardrobes lined up on the left. I spotted my luggage on the nearest bed, and, just my luck, Albus Potter claimed his luggage the bed next to mine.

“Out of curiosity,” the dark-skinned boy asked, “why didn’t you open it yourself, since you were closest?”

The Prefect looked mildly surprised. “What’s your name?”

“Darius Barton.”

“Well, Darius,” said the Prefect, “I guess I forgot to mention the security magic that’s in place here. It’s been nicknamed the ‘Hospitality Rule’; only residents of your room can open the door. Other people can enter the room if you let them in, but you have to open the door for them. It’s only in effect for entering through doors, though; they can leave without needing you to hold the door for them. The same goes for the door from the Common Room, and for the girls’ dorms too. The bathrooms are different, though; you _have_ to be a resident of the dorm to even enter. That’s for privacy reasons.”

“So…” Darius played at a mischievous smile. “We could just walk into the girls’ dorms if one of them just… lets us in?”

The Prefect smirked, knowing full-well what was being implied. “Yes, but only if they hold the door to let you in.”

I asked, “What happens if someone violates this Hospitality Rule? Oh,” I remembered to give my name: “I’m Scorpius Malfoy.”

He suppressed a laugh and shook his head. “Just don’t do it. Trust me. Anyway, before I let you all get settled, I’m going to show you the bathroom.” He gestured for us to leave the bedroom and then he led us further down the hall to a door at the end, labeled ‘W.C. and Showers’. We entered to a short hallway that extended perpendicularly to the one we’d just come from. “Here, we have the sinks,” said the Prefect. Indeed, the hallway was lined with a dozen sinks and mirrors on either side. “On our left…” he led us away from the sinks and around a corner, “we have the rest of the bathroom. Toilets on the right, showers on the left. Each stall is very private; no gaps above or below the door, and each door locks from the inside.”

I stared down the hallway of stalls. Even the showers had doors, instead of curtains as we had at home. This section of the hallway was very long, just about as long as the hallway for the bedrooms. There must have been over thirty stalls on each side.

Albus Potter peeked out from behind me. _Why is he standing so close?_ “Excuse me,” he said quietly. “My name is Albus Potter.  Um… why are there so many?”

The Prefect answered, “Because every boy in these dorms shares this one bathroom. That’s a little less than seventy people, usually. It can get pretty crowded in here, especially after dinner. We don’t usually have too much trouble with toilets, but for showering I suggest you each pick a time when there are available stalls and _stick to it_. Got it?”

We all nodded.

“Good.” He gave us a smile. “Well, if you don’t have any questions…” He looked to the five of us. We said nothing. “Then my work here is done! Classes start on Monday— that’s the fourth. Tomorrow, breakfast goes until ten thirty. Welcome to Slytherin, and good night!” Then, he left us. In the bathroom.

After an awkward moment, in which we all stood there looking stupid, I decided to take the initiative. “I think I’ll go unpack my things now.” The others followed. _Just as Dad told me_ , I thought. _I’m taking the lead, earning their respect. That’s how I’ll make friends._

 

***

 

During the first weeks of school, I came to know the habits and mannerisms of my roommates. Clarence Phipps, the bespectacled boy whose bed was by the window, kept his pet toad with him at all times, usually tucked in his shirt pocket or in the bottle holder of his backpack. He called it his ‘emotional support toad’ and it accompanied him even during tests. When he got nervous, he would gently stroke its back. The toad, named Pearl, was the only pet owned by any of us.

Glenn Farley occupied the bed next to Clarence’s. He was the tidiest of the five of us when it came to his belongings; everything had a place, and nothing was left open or unfolded, down to the packs of gum, of which he regularly kept stocked in his bookbag. I’d originally targeted him for studying purposes, as he was the quickest at learning everything, but he expressed very early on that he didn’t do well in groups.

Next was Darius Barton, the friendliest of the group. It was his idea to have us all call each other by our first names from the beginning, though we were inclined to use last names. Within two weeks, he seemed to have befriended every one of our classmates and almost all of the teachers (save the ghost-teacher, Professor Binns, who didn’t appear to care whether he had any students present during his lectures). I supposed he was trying to create a cushion for himself in case he needed academic help. It was a smart plan, really.

And then there was Albus.

Contrary to everything I’d been told about Potters and Weasleys, this boy was very quiet, never starting a conversation, making every effort to go unnoticed by the people around him. The issue with this was that, by virtue of being the spitting image of Harry Potter, he couldn’t go anywhere without being compared with his famous father. Teachers would say things like, “Your dad wasn’t so shy,” or “Are you going to try out for Quidditch some time?” Some people would wonder aloud how such adventurous parents could produce such a timid child.  The more people whispered, the more he tried to shrink away, but the more he tried to shrink away, the more they would say things like, “He’s nothing like his father,” or, worse, “What a letdown.” Sometimes at night I would hear him sniffling quietly through his drawn curtains.

Despite my efforts to distance myself from him, I couldn’t stand watching this. “What’s wrong with you,” I demanded of a Ravenclaw once, after she’d told Albus that he was a waste. “What good does it do you, to say these things to him? Do you think it’ll make you look impressive by comparison? If so, you are _sorely_ mistaken.”

The Ravenclaw wrinkled her nose at me. “What’s a _Malfoy_ doing, defending a Potter? Isn’t your father a coward?”

“Even if that were true,” I argued, “I hope you aren’t so stupid to not have noticed that I’m, in fact, not my father but a whole different human being, just as Albus is not Harry Potter.”

“Did you just call me stupid?!”

“Honestly,” I continued, “I don’t see how someone like you could have been put in Ravenclaw, if you think bullying based on mindless gossip is attractive. Let’s go, Albus.” I led the boy away, leaving the Ravenclaw fuming behind us.

On the way down to the dungeons, he mumbled, “Thank you.”

I sighed. “They talk about me too, you know. They think my parents have been raising me to be some Neo-Death Eater, and that I’m going to be a kiss-up like they say my Dad used to be. My Mum says the best way to prove them wrong is to be yourself.”

“That’s what my Dad told me, but…” He touched the Slytherin tie on his uniform. “They keep saying mean things.”

“Ignore them,” I said firmly. “They’ll stop when they realize it doesn’t affect you the way they want it to.”

“That’s too hard.”

“It takes lots of practice.” We reached the wall-entrance to the Common Room, and I recited the password. “If you want,” I said, wondering whether I’d regret what I’d say next, “I can stay by you to help.”

“Really?” He looked to me with sincere green eyes, and I swear they were _sparkling_. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

 _Yep, I’m gonna regret this._ “No problem.”


	2. This Child [Part2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter Break at Malfoy Manor.

The Winter Break came around, and that meant I would be going home for two weeks, after so long away. I didn’t want to tell anyone, but being at Hogwarts was my first time sleeping anywhere without my parents sleeping somewhere in the same building. It had been an unexpectedly easy transition to sharing a room with four boys, hundreds of miles from home, but I was eager to spend the holiday with my parents and grandparents again. I was also _very_ eager to have my own room and a bathroom to myself again. These were the perks of growing up in a small, rich family.

I packed only a few things, and I made sure to hide my plush white ferret friend in a folded shirt. It wasn’t that the other boys would judge me— I knew for a fact that all of them had stuffed animals to sleep with, and Clarence had a _living toad_ for Merlin’s sake— but I didn’t want Dad to find it. Mum gave it to me as a secret gift for my eleventh birthday, and she said Dad wasn’t allowed to know about it. Maybe it was because I was supposed to be a big kid, now that I was at Hogwarts. Maybe it was because I wasn’t allowed to have any pets, even toy ones, because Grandfather Lucius’s peacock would attack it. But I’d become used to sleeping with it, and I didn’t want to leave it at school, so in my suitcase it went.

“It’s weird, going home.” Albus stuffed a pair of socks in his suitcase.

I looked up from my suitcase. “Why’s that?”

“Well…” He pinched a lock of his hair. “I’ve finally started thinking of Hogwarts as my home now. And now I’m going back to the place where I lived for all my life, but it’s more like I’m having a vacation there. It’s weird.”

“I guess…”

“You don’t think so?”

I shrugged. “To me, it feels like I’m going home. I’ve lived there my whole life until now, like you said.”

“That’s true… Oh, wait!” He found a notebook and started writing. He ripped the page out and handed it to me. It was an address. “Does your family have an owl?”

“Uh…” I folded the sheet and tucked it away with my stuffed ferret. I also found some paper to give him my home address. “Not anymore. My grandfather’s peacock killed it a few years ago.”

“A peacock?” He seemed impressed. “Those can fly, right? Does it make deliveries?”

His ignorance was astonishing. “Peacocks don’t fly that well. Neige can’t even make it halfway across the front garden.”

Darius laughed. “Peacock, front garden… Sometimes you just sound so… _spoiled_.”

“That’s not my fault,” I countered lightheartedly. “My grandfather likes appearances. He’s always on about how ‘the ancestral manor must always be presentable’.”

Darius shook his head. “ _Manor_ … Well, Scorp, I’d like to visit some time. See for myself how much work your granddad puts into it.”

Next to Darius, Glenn muttered, “Do the Malfoys even have guests?” His comment was met with one of Darius’s socks in his face, and, judging by the disgust on his face, it was _not_ clean. “I didn’t mean it that way!” He threw the sock back. “I just—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “We don’t get many visitors. Maybe someday I’ll get to invite you guys.”

Clarence, already petting his toad, replied, “That might be fun.”

I smiled a little at the thought of having classmates over. Mum had always expressed that she wanted me to have friends my age— Dad’s former schoolmates only had children who were older, and when I met them, they had only been interested in my toys, not me. But I wondered what Dad and my grandparents would think about my roommates. Darius would probably be the most well-received, since he was so personable, but the others… _Well, it’s pretty obvious that they won’t like the idea of having Albus, a Potter, over._ I wondered whether Glenn would even come, given he didn’t seem to like people. As for Clarence, I wondered whether his nerves would hold up to meeting my family; Grandfather, especially, didn’t usually present himself as an understanding person. _It’s probably best that I don’t have any guests this time._

More addresses were exchanged. I wondered whether these boys would send any letters to me. If they did, I could use their owls to reply. If not… _Well, I guess I could try using the Muggle post…_ I almost laughed at the thought of my family’s reactions if I had to resort to that.

 

***

 

I hadn’t realized how lonely home was until now.

The manor was big enough to host a party for half the school, and it sat on a plot of land large enough to fit the entire Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The drawing room alone was half the size of the Slytherin Common Room. There was even a dungeon in the basement with enough space to fit a hundred sleeping bags.

But it was all empty. I walked past three unused rooms just to get to the one where the musical instruments were kept (my favorite was the violin). At every meal, my parents, my grandparents, and I would eat at a dining table with enough chairs to seat forty people. My bedroom, which was larger than the room I shared at school, was one of only three occupied bedrooms in the manor, leaving seven more vacant, fully-furnished but collecting dust.

At least something interesting happened.

During dinner on Boxing Day, Neige started screaming a lot outside. “Oh dear.” Mum quickly got up from her seat at the table and left for the front door.

Grandfather stared after where she’d gone with furrowed eyebrows. “He’s distressed,” he said of the peacock, reaching for his wand. “Who’s out there?”

Grandmother touched his shoulder to calm him. “Lucius—”

“It’s probably just an owl,” Dad told us.

Grandfather put his wand away, but he still looked wary. “At this time of day? It must be an emergency. Or a trick.”

“Father, we haven’t been attacked since before Scorpius was born. Nobody’s going to—”

“Scorpius!” Mum returned, wearing a raptor glove with a snowy owl perched on her arm. “It’s for you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” _I didn’t think anyone would actually send me mail._ I took the letter from the owl’s beak, already smiling. I never got mail, except for the obligatory birthday cards from Dad’s friends. _There’s my name, right there on the envelope._

“I’m going to go find a perch for this owl,” Mum said. “I’ll be right back.” She left the dining room again.

Grandfather adjusted his old-man glasses to get a better look. “Who is it from?”

“It doesn’t say,” I answered, looking at the envelope.

Dad wrinkled his eyebrows. “That owl…”

I started to open it.

“Be careful, Scorpius!”

“Lucius, it’s just a letter!” Grandmother took Grandfather’s hand to prevent him from grabbing his wand again. She looked to me and smiled encouragingly. “Go on, darling.”

I opened the envelope and slid out the letter. The writing drooped at the end of each line, but the handwriting was neat enough.

_Dear Scorpius,_

How is your break so far? I hope your Christmas was good. I got some good presents. My parents got tickets for us to see the next Quidditch World Cup next summer because my sister Lil is big enough now. Do you like Quidditch? My brother Jimmy got into the Gryffindor team this year. He’s a Seeker. My Mum and Dad were Seekers for Gryffindor too. His first game is on the last Saturday of January against Ravenclaw. You can come watch with me if you want. Merry Christmas a day late.

From,

Albus Potter

P.S. My Dad says it’s ok for you to reply with the family owl since you said you don’t have one. His name is Plaskitt. You don’t have to reply if you don’t want to.




Albus needed to learn to use commas.

Grandmother asked, “Is it from one of your classmates?”

I nodded.

“A friend?”

_Uh…_

Before I could answer, Mum returned, looking very excited. She kissed the top of my head. “It’s great to see that you’ve made friends! Who is it from— Oh!” Her eyes instantly flicked to Grandfather.

Dad sighed, massaging his forehead. “I knew it.”

“Who is it!” Grandfather demanded.

I took a breath. “Albus Potter. He’s one of my roommates.”

“Potter?!” Grandfather stood up to reach for the letter, but Mum blocked him with her arm. “What does he want?”

“Father, please.” Mum was firm. “This is Scorpius’s letter from a friend. Don’t go corrupting this.”

Grandmother gently tugged Grandfather back into his seat. “Astoria is right, dear. They’re just children.”

“His father is the reason our reputation is ruined,” he asserted. “The Potters are to be avoided!”

I mustered the courage to speak: “Albus isn’t bad. He gets bullied a lot and he’s very quiet. I’ve been helping him.”

There was a short silence, in which the adults all looked surprised. I understood their pause; nobody expected Albus to be like that. Then, Dad said, “That’s very good of you, Scorpius.”

“Thank you.” I carefully folded the letter back into the envelope. “I’d like to send a reply. He said I could use the owl he sent. May I be excused?”

Dad nodded. “If you’re done eating.”

I stood up from my seat, thanked Grandmother for having prepared the food, and left for my bedroom. On my way, I heard arguments arise again in the dining room. Overall, I hadn’t expected that to go so smoothly. It seemed only Grandfather was against my association with Albus. Even Dad supported me. _Does this mean I’m allowed to be his friend? Do I even want him to be my friend?_ I pushed the thought off. Friendship wasn’t an immediate thing anyway. There was plenty time to decide. Once I was in my bedroom, I took out a pen and paper.

__

Dear Albus,

Thank you for your letter, and to your father for letting me use your family’s owl. My grandfather’s peacock noticed his arrival, but he made his delivery safely without being attacked.

I had a good Christmas, just with my family. Among other things, I got polish for my wand, and sheet music. I don’t think I’ve told you or our other roommates, but I can play a few musical instruments. I’m thinking about bringing my favorite violin back to school with me after the break.

Also, to answer your question, I do like Quidditch. I’m not very good at playing, but it’s fun to watch. If we don’t have too much homework to do, I’d like to watch your brother play on the 27th of January.

Merry Christmas.

~ Scorpius Malfoy




I wondered whether I’d said too much about myself in my letter. I’d never sent anything aside from thank-you letters before. At least I’d done that enough times to not need Mom or Dad’s help posting it. They may not have been opposed, but I wanted them to be involved in as little of this as possible.

I released— _What’s his name, again?_

I checked Albus’s letter.

I released _Plaskitt_ from the balcony outside my bedroom. I hoped he would get the hint to come back to this part of the manor if Albus sent another letter. Even if Albus didn’t send another letter, I was glad to have received this one. It was my first non-obligatory letter.


	3. This Child [Part 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roommates being cuties.

The Slytherin section of the stands was almost completely empty at the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match, but Albus and I weren’t the only ones there. Like Albus, these other students had family or classmates to support. I knew none of them; I had no extended family, and none of the players were first-years.

As it was January, the few of us who were in attendance were bundled up in our heaviest winter clothes, many sporting our House colors in doing so. Albus wore a Slytherin hat and mittens, both knitted by his grandmother and gifted to him for Christmas. I, having grown up in a household containing only Slytherins, with limited choice in my own wardrobe thanks to my mother and grandmother, found myself decked out almost entirely in green and silver at a match where neither team belonged to my House. I felt like an oversized, barefaced leprechaun.

“But you’re warm, right?” Albus asked me.

“I guess so…”

“Then you’re okay.” His face was flushed from the cold; he had forgotten a scarf. “At least, that’s what my Dad says… And I think you look nice.”

I pulled my emerald silk scarf over my mouth and nose. _This kid… ___

Two hours into the match, Gryffindor was down from Ravenclaw by only thirty points. It would be easy to make up, so Albus wasn’t worried. But I saw something that he didn’t; Ravenclaw’s strategy. Their Beaters maintained control of the Bludgers and repeatedly targeted the Gryffindor Chasers so they wouldn’t have the Quaffle for more than a few seconds, while their Chasers alternated possession of the Quaffle among themselves so they couldn’t be targeted by the Gryffindor Beaters. The Gryffindor Keeper was the only reason the Ravenclaw team wasn’t ahead by more, but it was evident that she was getting tired from having to block so much. Soon enough, the Gryffindor Keeper missed a block and the score gap widened in Ravenclaw’s favor. 

“What are they doing?” I asked aloud. “Why don’t they switch out?” 

“What do you mean?” Albus didn’t look away from the match. 

“Doesn’t Gryffindor have alternate players? They need to switch Keepers!” 

Albus looked at me with a small frown and then we both looked to the benched waiting area for the Gryffindor team. Indeed, they had about four other team members in full gear, watching from below. It was enough to replace half of the Gryffindor team on the pitch. “I don’t think they have an alternate Keeper.” 

“What? That’s stupid! Why not?” 

“She’s the captain,” he answered. “The captain rarely gets replaced in a match.” 

“But she’s obviously fatigued.” Even as I said it, the Gryffindor Keeper let the Quaffle pass her by again. The other Gryffindor players were shouting feeble encouragement to their captain. “It could be another hour before the Snitch gets caught.” 

“Yeah…” Albus looked up to the red dot circling above it all: his brother, James. This was his first match. “Jimmy has to do it soon.” 

I agreed. 

The match continued, and within half an hour the Ravenclaw team had scored four more times, and Gryffindor had only managed to score twice. Albus was looking very nervous now. He started muttering, “Come on, Jimmy… Find it…” 

Suddenly the Ravenclaw Seeker took off. Obviously, James Potter pursued. I felt an odd knot in my stomach as I watched the red slowly catch up to the blue. I tried to trace ahead of their paths to find the Snitch but I couldn’t find it. “Is it a feint?” 

“No,” he answered quickly, “It’s right there! Go, Jimmy!” 

The Seekers were neck-and-neck, racing after the tiny gold ball that I couldn’t see, reaching their arms out toward it… 

A great shout erupted from the stands and the match was over. Gryffindor won.  
The Ravenclaws looked justifiably upset. The game had been stolen from them after they’d earned such a large lead. At least the Gryffindors were gracious enough to acknowledge their opponents’ efforts by shaking their hands. Then they lifted James onto their shoulders and carried him off the field like a hero. “Your brother did well,” I told Albus. When I heard no response, I turned to look at him. 

He was crying. 

They weren’t happy tears. 

“What’s wrong, Albus?” 

He wiped his eyes with his mittens. “Sorry,” he choked weakly. “I just…” He pulled his hat over his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“Let’s get inside where it’s warm.” I carefully took one of his hands. “I’ll guide you.” 

The boy blindly let me lead him back to the castle, with one hand holding his hat over his face and the other in mine. I made sure to walk more slowly than I ordinarily would, so he wouldn’t trip or bump into anything. Everyone else walked swiftly through the cold, leaving us behind. It was when the sound of their voices had faded that he finally spoke again. 

“Jimmy’s good at everything,” he said. His voice sounded dead, dangerously vacant. 

“Albus…” 

“He _is_ ,” he insisted through a fresh wave of tears, “and everyone loves him for it.” 

“Albus—” 

“And I’m the screw-up who can’t do anything.” He started sobbing. “Nobody likes me…” 

“Now, that’s just not true,” I told him. “Albus Potter, you are no screw-up. You are a good person. You’re honest, you’re considerate, and—” I faltered as I realized what I was about to say: “you’re a good friend.” 

He said nothing. 

I felt my face heat up from embarrassment. “So don’t go comparing yourself to your brother or anyone else, okay? You’re you, and not them.” 

“Scorpius…” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re a good friend too.” 

We were still outside, but his compliment made me feel warm all over. 

*** 

“Glennnnn!” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

I rolled my eyes at the boys a few beds away. “Darius, you’re wasting your time.”

Darius turned his puppy dog eyes away from Glenn. “But he’s so _smart_! He should be helping us study! Exams are next week!” 

Glenn tied his fringe up out of his face. “I’ve tried group studying before, and it’s always so much slower than doing it by myself. I end up tutoring everyone else and I get no help. Go to the Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws if you want a study group. Or maybe,” he suggested with a smirk, “you want to take the easy route, in which case you’ll want to see a Gryffindor about getting test answers.” 

“Hey!” 

Everyone looked at Albus, who sat in his bed. For once he didn’t look timid. His eyes were set to a glare, and his nose quivered in anger. He resembled a stern rabbit. 

“My family are Gryffindors, and they never cheat!” 

Glenn shrugged off his surprise and casually returned, “Your parents left Hogwarts over twenty years ago. Things change. Gryffindors are lazy. They want the easy way out.” 

I cut in. “Are you suggesting that Rose Weasley, _who has the best scores in Charms and Transfiguration,_ has been cheating? It’s almost impossible to cheat at spellcasting.” 

“It’s effortless for her,” Glenn growled through clenched teeth. “ _I’m_ the best at the theory. She’s not even top three at— ” 

_CRRROAAAAKK_

All eyes turned to Clarence. His eyes were streaming with tears and his toad, Pearl, looked particularly constricted in his grip. The pressure of everyone’s gaze seemed to squeeze him as well, forcing a long, wheezing squeak from his throat. 

“Oh, Clarence!” Darius rushed to Clarence’s aid. He rubbed the crying boy’s back and sat down with him. “Try to match my breathing.” 

Clarence shuddered with each deep breath. “It’s too much…” 

“I hear you. Sorry we got all worked up.” He continued to rub Clarence’s back, kneading in circular patterns between his shoulder blades. I’d come to appreciate Darius when Clarence was upset; he was the only one Clarence would let touch him. The rest of us struggled to comfort Clarence without him. 

Clarence’s grip loosened around Pearl. “Th-thanks.” 

“No problem.” Darius finished his mini-massage with a pat on the back. “Hey, if you’re feeling up to it, how about we head up to the Library and study together?” 

Clarence smiled. He reminded me of Albus when he smiled. “Maybe we’ll find some classmates there.” 

“Yeah.” Darius smiled too. 

*** 

The train ride home wasn’t nearly as lonely as when I first arrived at Hogwarts back in the fall. 

In September, I had nobody to sit with. There were no empty compartments— and I probably would have cried a little if I’d had to sit alone— so I wandered the corridors of the train until a group of Slytherins recognized me as a Malfoy and offered me a seat with them. Then they proceeded to ignore my existence for the remainder of the trip. At least they helped me get my luggage to and from the compartment above our heads. 

This time, I sat with the boys I’d been sharing a room with all year. We weren’t all close friends, but at least we knew each other, and I felt included. 

As Clarence watched the scenery blur by, Darius reclined next to him. “Finally going home for real. I miss my brother.” 

Apparently, there were still things to learn about each other. 

Glenn asked, “You have a brother?” 

“Yeah, he’s eight. Not sure if he’s got magic, though. All he can do is sneeze really, I mean really hard. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t lost his brains through his nose.” 

“Ugh.” Glenn shut his eyes. “Thanks for that image.” 

Clarence contributed quietly: “Tilly used to stick to the walls when she started showing magic. My dad had to peel her off a lot.” I recalled that his sister was another Slytherin, a year ahead of us. 

Darius laughed. “Kid magic is weird. I heard it shows something about you, though.” 

“Yeah?” I raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 

He sat straighter in his chair. “I had _charisma_.” 

“That’s not even magic.” 

“Not normally,” Darius conceded, “but I could make anyone listen to me. Once, I broke a window while playing football, and instead of getting punished, I got my uncle to take the blame for it.” 

“Um… I’m not sure what to call that…” 

“I told you; it’s magic!” He crossed his arms. “Okay then, how did _you_ start showing magic?” 

I shrugged. “I made the instruments play music for me.” 

His eyes widened. “Whoa, Scorp! Even your _magic_ is posh!” 

“No, you don’t understand—” 

“I bet you were some baby composer or something.” Darius was impressing himself with his imagination of me. 

“Actually, my Mum says I made them play random notes. It didn’t make any sense, mostly.” I giggled. “Apparently, it scared my grandfather so much he had the instrument room moved to the furthest part of the manor.” 

I awaited the next jibe from Darius about how spoiled I was to have an instrument room, but he just nodded and laughed. “My Pépère— that’s how we call my granddad— used to be in a band in New Orléans before he moved to Hampshire. Our house has a room just for his instruments. I only know some piano.” 

Glenn suggested, “You two should play for us some time.” 

Albus nodded. “That could be nice…” 

Darius raised his hands defensively. “Whoa, I’m not that good. Plus, my family’s piano is… pretty old.” 

“How about mine?” I didn’t realize I’d said it until they looked at me. “Er, I mean… If you’d like, you all could come visit my house… some time… this summer…?” 

“Seriously?” Darius lit up. “Dude, I’m there!” 

Glenn nodded. “Sounds good.” 

“I’m coming for you, owl-eating peacock!” 

“Darius, he didn’t eat—” 

“— probably has fifty rooms—” 

“Um… Scorpius…?” 

“Clarence?” 

“— an entire room just for your clothes—” 

Glenn kicked Darius’s shin. “Shut up.” 

Clarence ran his thumb across Pearl’s back. “Is it… safe?” 

I understood what he meant. The atmosphere could get too tense for him. My grandfather, especially, tended toward suspicion rather than hospitality. Grandmother usually could keep things calm but sometimes… 

“What about for me,” Albus asked. 

I hesitated again before answering: “I’ll make sure that you’ll feel welcome.” I nodded to Clarence as well. “I wouldn’t invite you if I couldn’t do that.” 

Both boys managed to smile a little in response. 

I hoped I could deliver on my promise. 


End file.
